Ron's Decision
by windupmonkeyuk
Summary: R's reaction to H/ D relationship
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: The characters used in this fanfic are not my own, but property of J.K Rowling  
  
Ron awoke suddenly in a cold sweat again. Insomnia seemed to have been plaguing him recently, well, ever since Harry had been with Draco. He looked around to see whether Harry had returned yet; finding that he hadn't, he slumped back into his bed and tossed and turned for several minutes, trying to get back to sleep. This, he found, was impossible so reluctantly he threw on some clothes that were lying around and went down into the common room. Ten past midnight.  
  
The ashes in the fire still glowed amber, illuminating the room and throwing dancing shadows up onto all of the walls. Ron moved slowly, dragging himself across to his usual chair in the far corner of the room. There was no one still awake at this time, apart from Harry, or at least he assumed. Maybe he was going to pull another all-nighter and come back early in the morning with no one the wiser; apart from Ron himself. It was tearing him apart to see his best friend with Draco, Ron's greatest enemy. Draco had always treated Ron badly, ever since they had entered Hogwarts a few years ago, always because Ron had come from a relatively poor background. He couldn't help it, and it made it all the worse that both Harry and Draco himself were very well off compared to most in the school. Despite this, Ron hated receiving the expensive presents Harry gave him, or at least did until recently. It made him feel all the more worthless.   
  
Recently things had taken a turn for the worst for Ron's relationships, with both Hermione and Harry. He felt as if he was falling into a never-ending pit, spiralling out of control; he was becoming a recluse and was neurotic and cynical to the bone. But he hadn't always been like this, he knew it. There was a time when he could remember being happy and sharing healthy relationship with both Hermione and Harry. Ron's jealousy was doing this to him, he knew it, and yet he couldn't prevent the anger building up inside him every time he thought of Draco leading Harry on. Harry seemed to be the only one who couldn't see that Draco had no wish to be with Harry but was using him. Ron wanted more than anything to save Harry, and if he could crush Draco, either mentally or preferably physically it would be all the more sweet. But Harry was infatuated and wouldn't listen to the warnings that Ron and Hermione, his two best friends, issued.  
  
Tears welled up behind Ron's green eyes and poured like a waterfall, cascading down his cheeks, showering on the floor in big, bright drops. Furiously, Ron rubbed at his face, brushing the tears off onto the sleeve of his shirt. He hated emotionally outbursts, they made him feel weak, and now he had no-one around to console him like Harry had before they were coming all the more. He was unstable; his temperament was like that on a pedestal, one small knock and he would fall. Just recently this change in temperament had caused his alienation from his other friends, brothers, and now the rest of his family. He felt alone in this chaos, and was slipping further from all that he used to know.   
  
He walked over to the mirror and examined himself. His face was blotched; with red streaks from the trails of the tears and bloodshot eyes. His hair was bedraggled and he looked gaunt, closer to death than alive. His health was deteriorating due to lack and sleep and more often than not he was missing classes or falling asleep in lessons. His marks were tumbling downhill, but he didn't care. He took pleasure in this destruction of self. Moving his eyes further down he focused on his torso. First, abdomen; he was still fairly thin but now, as he gradually mature into a teenager his relatively straggly body was becoming more full as muscles began to take form. He wasn't think anymore, he was better built and he took pride in this, but he still wasn't as good at sport as either Harry or Draco. If he was honest with himself he would have said that he was afraid of hurting himself or embarrassing himself playing Quiditch, but he said that he just hadn't had the time to practise like Harry had. But still, looking at himself, beneath the haggard features he saw a young man staring back, he knew that some people would find him attractive.   
  
Tears began to fall again, like little drops of rain. Ron sat down again, head in hands and this time the tears came in an unstoppable flow. He felt so weak. Why did Harry choose Draco over him? He would never know, he didn't want to anymore. He didn't care, all he wanted was Harry back. The Harry who used to care about Ron. Not the Harry that Ron saw now, the Harry that was Draco's lap dog, the one who had begun putting Ron down. Ron didn't think that Harry cared anymore.   
  
Finally, when the tears had stopped and Ron began to breathe normally again, no longer sobbing, he decided that now was the time to put his idea into action. Over the past few weeks Ron had been scheming and plotting. He wanted Harry to hurt like Ron was, to know what it feels like to lose one of your friends. Hell, Harry didn't even notice that Ron was looking so pale, he barely said anything to him anymore, ever chance he had spare time he was off with Draco. To have some 'private time'. The bastard, for that's what Ron deemed him to be now; no true friend would let him down on such a regular basis, should feel what it's like to despair, what it's like to be alone. Ron's smiled slightly, a little colour coming to his face, and then gradually began to laugh, a low rumble at first, but as it progressed the laugh become something far more maniacal. Listening to himself laughing, Ron realised finally how twisted he had become. The thing was, he liked it.  
  
He checked the clock, just gone one, and, pondering over the decision for a few seconds longer, exited the common room in the direction of escape; from Hogwarts. He was going out into the night and he didn't care what was to become of him, the adrenaline rush quelled his fear.  
  
Panting heavily Ron looked around, and realising there was no one around watching him inhaled deeply, steeling himself. He had ran all the way from the common room, but it felt so damn good. Finally, having caught his breath, Ron turned to the door and tried the lock. Just as he thought, it was unlocked. He grimaced slightly as the door squeaked, echoing around the great corridor, but remembering he was alone, his heart quickly resumed to it's previous pace, still slightly quicker than normal. He looked out into the night. This was it, his chance to make Harry hurt.   
  
As he stepped out beneath the canopy of the stars the night closed around him like a cloak. A cold breeze hit Ron's face, stinging slightly and causing his eyes to water, but he didn't care anymore.  
  
'Come on sweet catastrophe,' he whispered as he stepped further into the black, his footsteps echoing for a while until there was nothing left. 


	2. Harry & Draco

"I think it's time for you to go Harry."   
  
Harry had once again overstayed his welcome, and this was a habit which was becoming increasingly  
  
infuriating for Draco, and yet he still frequented these midnight meetings, not wanting to miss   
  
one because he enjoyed the company of someone he could trust. Sure, he did like Harry. Up to a   
  
point. But he still had difficulty looking past the fact that they had once been enemies. There   
  
had been no change on his part to provoke the sudden interest that Harry had now. In a way this   
  
made it all the more sweet for him and it was true, they did have a good understanding of each   
  
other; once you looked past the stereotypical bad and good labels they had ended up with they   
  
were very similar characters. Draco hated this stereotyping, sure he was a bully sometimes, but  
  
wasn't everybody?   
  
Harry's sudden interest had been sparked off by chance. Snape had placed them together in class   
  
for a team project on potions, thinking that it would do them good, but rather hoping that the   
  
partnership would be destructive. It wasn't and now they were friends. But Harry seemed to be   
  
taking the friendship too far, he wanted to see Draco as often as he could, and this was a mental  
  
strain on Draco. But he couldn't help laugh every time Harry said that he needed Draco, it was   
  
just too funny to find that the 'hero' of the school suddenly needing someone deemed unworthy   
  
by the general population of Hogwarts. What would they say if they knew? If only they ALL knew,  
  
as opposed to just Harry's select circle of friends. Ron and Hermione. They had always been   
  
loyal to Harry throughout his time a the school and know, almost on a whim, he had left them in   
  
the dry in preference for Draco. It pleased Draco when he thought about it properly, the best   
  
known pupil at school being friends with the most despised. But he felt sorry for Harry's friends, they thought badly of him and they had good reason to. After all, they took the brunt of his   
  
insults.   
  
It hadn't always been in his nature to insult people, and he didn't know when or how it had   
  
come about. However, there were a few reasons he could think of. Of course, the main being he   
  
took after his father. He had seen his father in action, insulting their house elf, Dobby, at   
  
every possible moment. Draco had felt sorry but he couldn't show this in front of his father,   
  
he would have been considered weak. Another possible reason was jealousy. Ever since Harry had   
  
come into the school he had had popularity and support from all the teachers and understanding  
  
friends. He had wanted to be like Harry, or at least have friends like he did; those who would   
  
be there in his time of need. He felt bitter and resented Harry's friends, but not Harry himself;  
  
he had a liking for him. But either way, Draco had become cold-hearted and cynical of the world  
  
around him.   
  
The meetings with Harry had started no more than two weeks ago, upon the whim of Harry. Since   
  
then Draco had learned more things about Harry than most knew, which was saying a lot considering  
  
he was a main conversation topic for most in the school. He knew how Harry felt about everything, and the feelings, in general were shared. They met in   
  
an empty room that they had found one night when wondering through the corridors. It had been   
  
rather funny how they had found it really; one night they had heard footsteps in the corridor   
  
ahead of them and coming closer. Not wanting to be caught, the pair had dived into the nearest   
  
room. It had turned out to be what they presumed to be one of the older common rooms; however,   
  
it was still well furnished with sofas and armchairs and a small fire which lit immediately when  
  
they entered. They were at no risk of being caught and so they decided that they would meet   
  
here every time. It had a warm homely feeling, which appealed to Draco after the cold common   
  
room of Slytherin where everybody looked at each other with contempt. It wasn't as if they were   
  
holding grudges, it was how they were towards everyone, but Draco hated it.   
  
Looking across at Harry, seated a short distance from him in one of the armchairs, he examined   
  
him. Harry's scar was his outstanding feature; not much else about him was particularly special.   
  
For Draco, outward appearance was important but Harry didn't seem too bothered about it. Draco   
  
liked this about him, he liked seeing Harry's hair as a shaggy matt; it was amusing but Harry   
  
also managed to wear it well. Harry seemed, to all around him, laidback and cool. From his   
  
experience Draco found this not to be true. Draco could understand why Harry felt the need to   
  
keep that side of him in though. But Harry had opened up to Draco; he seemed to trust him   
  
more than anybody else.   
  
'I think it's time you should be going Harry.' Draco signalled to the door, motioning to get up   
  
as if in mock imitation of Harry.   
  
'Do I have to? It's only just gone 1, we normally have more time than this.'   
  
'I'm tired now though, we have been meeting here all week and I haven't had a good night's rest   
  
for a while. Let's go now, if you won't then I will,' replied Draco, his voice   
  
resonating around the empty room.   
  
Seeing there was no point in complaining, Harry reluctantly raised himself from his spot on in  
  
the armchair and slowly dragged himself over to the door. Nodding an acknowledgement of thanks   
  
to Draco and lifting his hand he wave he signalled goodnight and sullenly stepped out into the   
  
dank corridor, beginning the long trudge up to the Gryffindor common room, and his dormitory.   
  
Just for security he put on his father's cloak to ensure that no one caught him. Taking one last   
  
look into the room at Draco, who yawned slightly and pushed himself slowly up off the chair, he   
  
set off slowly.   
  
  
  
~-~   
  
Harry left the room and turned down the corridor, moving swiftly after his initial slow,  
  
ambling pace. He didn't want to look behind; looking back at Draco would have been too much  
  
for him. Harry once again felt unfulfilled, these meetings with Draco were becoming more  
  
frequent and yet he was getting nowhere with him. He wanted more than he was getting from  
  
Draco, and he knew that Draco, in effect, was using him, using his popularity around the  
  
school and with the teachers to gain popularity for himself. But he couldn't let go of  
  
Draco, not yet anyway. It seemed that no one understood that, Harry needed Draco and was relying   
  
on him more and more to be able to make him happy. At first Draco did this easily, but now he   
  
wasn't able to comfort Harry so well. He was slipping, tumbling down into an abyss, away from   
  
his friends, Ron and Hermione, and into darkness. He was alone, completely and utterly alone.  
  
As he carried on moving down the corridor, covered by his father's cloak and treading carefully  
  
to avoid making any unwanted noise, he thought of his friends. Ron and Hermione, who had stood   
  
by him through everything in these years at Hogwarts, were becoming more distant to Harry. They   
  
were no longer friends, more acquaintances; he no longer ate with them and very rarely spent time   
  
with them. When he wasn't training on the Quidditch pitches he was wandering the school alone or   
  
with Draco discussing his life and his problems. The thing that made Draco stand out against all   
  
of his friends was that Draco appeared to listen to Harry. When Harry was talking, Draco's eyes   
  
would sparkle, and he would remain, head cocked to one side, listening throughout whatever Harry   
  
said, not interrupting to offer advice or stopping to tell him he was wrong. He heard him out,   
  
and this was why Harry couldn't let him go just yet. Neither Ron nor Hermione would understand   
  
if he told them he was lonely, they couldn't comprehend how someone so popular could be so lonely.   
  
But it doesn't matter how popular you are. It matters how many of those friends understand, and   
  
currently Harry didn't think any did. He felt alone with his problems and had no way to vent them,  
  
apart from playing Quidditch and talking to Draco.  
  
When he was on the pitch, soaring above the crowds, listening to the screaming fans  
  
urging him on, he felt free. He could soar like a bird, drifting on the wind to wherever he   
  
pleased if he wanted. The adrenaline rush was valuable too; it was increasingly becoming the only  
  
exciting thing in Harry's life. He loved flying high and feeling at one with the wind, floating   
  
effortlessly. He knew that he could escape if he wanted, but what was the point? After all,   
  
Dumbledore would know exactly where he was.  
  
Harry's problems stemmed from the fact he had no real parents. His aunt and uncle  
  
were no compromise to what real parents would be in his mind. They tormented him, and it  
  
led to his attitude becoming one of self- deprecation. Harry was always beating himself up  
  
when nobody else was around. He was reaching too high for goals that he couldn't achieve,  
  
and yet he knew he shouldn't aim so high. He couldn't help it; years of torture at the  
  
hands of his uncle had led him to be like this. He become increasingly infuriated with his  
  
friends when they told him he shouldn't be so hard himself too, and this was another  
  
reason for the steady decline in amiability between Ron, Hermione and himself. He felt  
  
alone in the world, and was being suffocated by those around him. What's more, he was bored.  
  
Bored of his friends, bored of school, bored of his tedious life. For Harry now, Draco  
  
was the light at the end of the tunnel, the one who could save him from falling.  
  
He knew how much pressure he was putting on Draco but he was sure he could take it.  
  
Draco was mentally strong, unlike Harry. Or at least if he wasn't, he kept his feelings  
  
covered up better than Harry did. It was as if a wall was placed around Draco, preventing  
  
him from being affected by anything happening in the world around him. Harry envied him for  
  
this; he loved Draco's carefree attitude and found his take on life exciting. Harry had  
  
also enjoyed watching people, and there was no one in his mind more interesting to watch  
  
than Draco was. That was another reason that he had been spending so much time with him  
  
recently.  
  
But maybe there was an ulterior reason too, a reason which Harry had thought through and denied vehemently. Could he  
  
have feelings towards Draco? The boy who had been his enemy for so many years at the  
  
school, and now become his friend, his saviour even. This notion seemed absurd to Harry,  
  
but he suspected that Draco thought there was some physical attraction on Harry's part. He  
  
wasn't in the slightest bit modest after all and attributed even the slightest looks of  
  
physical affection to the fact that he thought himself was attractive to the opposite sex.  
  
Suddenly a noise coming from further off in the main hall distracted Harry. Harry waited a few   
  
seconds, thinking over what to do, wondering whether it was the wind, a teacher or  
  
something else. After a few seconds perusal he decided to investigate himself, after all,  
  
he was cloaked.  
  
He arrived in the main hall, still stepping stealthily to avoid unwanted noise, to  
  
find the door swinging open and blowing in the wind. In the distance he could see a streak  
  
of red running off under the cloud of night.  
  
Harry's heart started beating at double speed. He sat down heavily, knocking the  
  
wind out of him. He began to cry silently. He knew that into the dark had stepped Ron, almost  
  
certainly to his death. The chances of retrieving his friendship now were even slimmer than  
  
before. 


End file.
